An End to the Tale?
by Jacquelin Sparrow
Summary: Jack Sparrow's most recent escape from death has left him questioning his life. But the sea is a demanding mistress, and will not loose such a lover easily...
1. A Change in the Wind

They seemed immortal, those piratical heroes, moving in and out of my life like the ocean tide. They always came with exotic gifts and incredible stories, leaving again to garner more for next time. There would always be a next time, I thought. Always.

In my tenth year they came, blowing in with the Caribbean breeze, laden with the usual tales and blithe comments. But when Mari smiled, there were lines around her eyes that I'd never seen before…and Jack's hair seemed suddenly iced with silver.

It was in that moment that I realized that not even a legend such as Captain Jack Sparrow would live forever, and the thought saddened me. The sea would be a dull place without the two of them to stir it up. Even then, I pictured them going out in a blaze of glory that would sprout tall tales for the next hundred years.

I never dreamed it would end like this.

Papa had just told me to ready for bed when a loud knock came at the kitchen door. Mama and Papa frowned at one another, wondering who could be calling at such an hour, when Estrella flew into the parlour, white-faced.

"You'd better come, sir," she told Papa. "It looks very bad."

Both of my parents hurried into the kitchen, never noticing me in their wake. When we got to the room, my mother gasped, and my father said a word Mama would have normally scolded him for.

Captain Jack Sparrow stood hunched over a counter, one arm looped about his daughter's waist. Mari's face was pale beneath her sea-born tan; the hand not supporting Jack was pressed against her father's abdomen. Irregular swathes of blood covered them both.

"'Tis but a scratch," Jack rasped as Will came around to help Mari hold him up.

"Hold your tongue, man," Mari said. "You're a rather different chap than Mercutio."

Will managed to help the other man onto a stool and opened his shirt. Two bullet holes just below his ribcage wept blood. I gasped, and Mama noticed me.

"Isobel! Go get ready for bed, darling. We'll take care of this." My mother's voice trembled. It had never done that before.

Reluctantly, I went upstairs and put on my nightclothes, but I didn't go to bed. Instead, I waited with my door cracked, watching for when they brought Jack upstairs. I knew my parents would never let him leave the house in his condition.

The proud pirate sagged between Papa and Mari as they went past, Mama following with arms full of linen and salves. Jack's eyes were rimmed red, his jaw taught, and his face as white as beach sand. He was hatless and shirtless; a length of bandage around his middle already bloomed scarlet.

"How did this happen?" Papa asked. Mari's eyes grew dark.

"Bloody bandit caught us by surprise. Nothing more'n a street-rat, really, that got lucky wi' a pistol. Dad got luckier than 'im, though."

"It doesn't seem that way to me," Mama told her. They turned into a nearby guest-room. Cautiously, I slipped out of my room and hid next to Jack's door.

"He's still standin'. Bugger 't got 'im isn't. Way I see it, that makes Dad the lucky one."

I'd never heard Mari call Jack anything but "Jack" before. I knew they were father and daughter, of course, but it never seemed strange that Mari called Jack by his name. Now, hearing her call him "Dad" set my heart beating faster.

I peeked around the corner to see them lay Jack on the bed. He said nothing, just grunted a little while they made him comfortable, then gave everyone a weak grin.

"A've 'ad worse, mates. Takes more'n a bit o' lead to get rid o' ol' Jack."

Mari, gripping his hand, looked away. "I certainly 'ope so." I was the only one that heard her.

Mama put on a few more bandages, then tucked a blanket around the pirate just like she did for me when I had a cold. "Sleep now," she ordered gently, "you're both safe here for as long as you need."

Jack murmured thanks as his eyes drifted closed. Mari pulled a chair next to the bed. Papa touched her shoulder. "You should try to sleep, too."

"I'd only try and fail, mate. This is my place for the night."

"If you need anything, come and wake us."

Mama and Papa left, then. I pressed myself against the wall, lucky they didn't see me. But a pirate's eyes are sharper.

"Izzy, lass," I heard Mari call. "Come here a moment."

Biting my lower lip, I entered the room. Mari pulled me into her lap and I saw that Jack's eyes were open again. He smiled a little, and I could see his gold teeth glint in the candle-light.

"Scared, are ye, lass?" he asked. I nodded. He reached out to put a callused hand on my knee. "Don't be. If I can wrestle me ship back from a bunch o' undead mutineers, escape the noose in three different countries, and make friends wi' me own daughter" –Mari snorted— "then I can certainly survive a little street-rat lead, savvy?"

I nodded. Jack squeezed my knee, but only a little. "That's a lass. Can ye be brave until I'm well, then? Then, I might teach ye some o' th' finer points o' piratin', if ye don't tell yer mum."

"And then," Mari added, "I can re-teach ye the right way to do things."

I giggled. If Jack and Mari could still fight, then there had to be hope.

"T' bed wi' ye now, lass," Mari said, and set me on the floor with a pat on the rump. I obeyed her readily, settling under my covers with the thought that everything would be well tomorrow.

The next day, Jack had a fever. It was lead poisoning— I heard Estrella telling Anne that Master Sparrow wasn't expected to last till the next morning. I closed my ears to these rumors, unwilling to believe that anything truly bad could happen to these people I loved. I trotted to Jack's room, determined to see him sitting up telling some joke that would make Mama blush.

But when I looked in the room, a most unwelcome sight greeted me. Mari and Mama leaned over the bed, dabbing Jack's sweat-covered body with damp cloths. He writhed on the sheets, twisting them in his hands and calling out for someone named Ruthie.

"I'm sorry love," he cried, eyes fixed on Mari. "So sorry…if I'd known ye'd take it like that I'd've left ye on the _Pearl_, whelp or no…"

"Shh…"Mari whispered, pressing him back to the pillows. "It's all right, Jack. I understand…"

Jack's eyes refocused on the wall across from the bed. His nostrils flared. "Barbossa, you mutinous, lying sack of—" he spat a whole string of words that Mama didn't like. But Mama's face didn't change, she only wiped his forehead and looked under his bandages.

"I don't know how this could have festered so quickly," she said to Mari. "We got the bullets out and cleaned the wound…"

Mari's mouth tightened. "Poisoned shot. I've seen it before. Happens on Tortuga a lot, to thin out the competition for plunder."

Mama's throat worked for a minute. "The bandit wasn't a chance encounter, then."

"It doesn't seem so."

"Isobel."

I spun on a heel to find my father standing behind me with another man. He was short and balding, with a heavy black bag clutched to his chest.

"You know eavesdropping is bad habit," Papa said. He opened his mouth to scold me some more, then sighed. "So, you might as well be right in the room. Go and get some fresh water and salves, would you? And ask Estrella to bring up some tea for everyone."

Papa and the other man went into Jack's room. "Elizabeth, Mari, this is Doctor Malbridge. He's a good man who doesn't need to know the surname of his patient."

I went about my tasks as quickly as I could, eager to be back upstairs now that I had permission to know what was going on. When I got back, Dr. Malbridge had cut away Jack's bandages and inspecting the wounds with a frown.

"Bootstrap, old mate?" Jack said, staring at Papa. "Barbossa hasn't drowned ye after all! Ye've got to come back to th' _Pearl_, soon's I'm well, savvy?"

Papa nodded, gripping the older man's shoulder. "Of course I will, Jack."

"This doesn't look good," Dr. Malbridge said, putting fresh bandages over the pus-filled wounds. "I can give you a poultice that might draw the poison, but whatever's been used here works very rapidly. It would need drawn almost right away, and I understand it was hours between the— altercation and the reception of help?"

"What'er ye sayin', Doc?" Mari asked, her voice rough. Dr. Malbridge pulled a small jar out of his bag along with a slip of paper.

"I'm saying," he told her, "to make him as comfortable as you can."

Mari's face grew dark, and Papa ushered the doctor out of the room very quickly.

"Man's a crackpot," Mari told my parents. "Captain Jack Sparrow's survived worse'n this, and he'll survive this, too. Right Jack?"

Jack grinned, and wrapped long fingers around her hand. "'O course, Ruthie my love," he said. "Ye and I and Bill'll all get back aboard my lovely _Pearl_, double-quick."

Humming low in his throat, Jack closed his eyes and slept. Mama put on the poultice and she and Papa went downstairs. I stayed, silent, mostly from the shock at seeing Captain Mari Cutlass cry.

As the day wore on, Jack said fewer and fewer crazy things. In fact, he said almost nothing at all, black eyes hidden beneath kohl-blackened eyelids. Papa finally made Mari go get some sleep and sat with Jack himself. I went in to them, an unfamiliar tightness in my chest.

"Papa? Is Jack going to die?"

My father looked down at me, dark circles rimming his eyes. He drew me close and kissed my forehead. "I don't know, dearheart," he whispered. "I hope not, I pray not, and you can pray too."

"Would that help?"

"I think so," my father told me. "I think God hears children the best."

That evening, my father went downstairs to get something to eat, and Jack was alone briefly. I sat in the chair next to his bed, praying silently that God would let this legendary man live.

"_I know he's a pirate,"_ I thought, _"but I think he's a nice one. At least, he's always nice to me, and he loves Mari a lot, and he saved my parents more than once."_

"Please let him be a good pirate some more." I whispered aloud. I looked at his face then, and started when I saw his eyes looking back at me. A long-fingered hand reached out to cup my face.

"My dear lass," he said hoarsely. "Ye've grown a foot since I saw ye last."

I pressed the hand to my cheek, speechless. Jack contemplated the ceiling. "How would ye feel about havin' yer godpapa around all th' time? D'ye think ye'd like havin' Uncle John Gull in a manor close by?"

"Don't you wanna be a pirate anymore?"

Jack chuckled. "Ye can take the man out o' the sea…I'll always want t' be a pirate, dear lass. But there comes a time when wantin's all I should do."

He looked at me then, and my heart stilled at the black wells of sorrow in his eyes. He tried to smile, and failed. "Always thought I'd like t' go out in a blaze o' glory, have stories passed around about me last battle at sea. But the closer Death gets to ye, the less glorious he seems." Jack nodded to himself. "Aye. Lord John Gull's gonna make 'imself a home in Port Royal." He tried another smile, and was more successful. "I never dreamed it would end like this, lass. But it's not so bad an ending, I think."


	2. Discovery and Heartache

"I won't do it, curse your eyes!" Mari's voice translated through the door as if it wasn't there. I jerked my ear away from the keyhole, wincing. Didn't they know that yelling could damage an eavesdropper's hearing?

"There's no one else that's worthy of her, my lass," Jack insisted. "And just because I'm beached doesn't mean my _Pearl_ has to be, savvy?"

"She already has a captain."

I put an eye to the keyhole now. Mari and Jack stood toe-to-toe, Mari glaring up at her father. Jack gazed down at her, seeming smaller than the woman before him, although he was a head taller.

"Aye, a man who's finally seen the script on the sails! I've got enough plunder t' make me a fine livin' here a-land."

Mari shook her head, red braids flying. "Of course you do! We _all_ do— you can't just abandon the sea, Jack. It wouldn't let you when Mum died, and it sure as hell won't let you now!"

Jack turned away from her, stance solid, his signature sway for once stilled. "Ye've a bairn on the way, I'm right?"

I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth. Mari was with child? Why didn't she tell Mama?

"Aye," Mari snapped.

Jack turned to face her, very slowly. "I _had_ hoped to see the babe birthed," he said. "Seems to me, if I'm to give up me plunderin', this is the opportune moment, ay?"

Mari's jaw clenched. "There _is _no opportune moment for this, Jack. If you stay a-land, want of the sea will kill ye long before a bullet or a blade."

Jack met her gaze and the two stared each other down for a moment. Suddenly, Mari stalked from the room, flinging open the door as she went; I scrambled to the middle of the hall before the door could hit me. Jack, watching after her, saw me and grinned a little.

"Good show, Izzy, lass," he said. "Next time, though, ye may want t' hold yer breath, savvy?"


	3. Living Conditions

"You can't really give up the sea." The words burst forth like a breath suddenly loosed. Jack's gaze grew dark, distant. He frowned. I hated it when Jack frowned; the expression didn't fit his face, somehow. He came into the hall with me and knelt on one knee, so that his eyes met mine.

"Izzy," he began, "ye'll find, in the world that the only rules that matter are these: What a man can do and what a man can't do. Now, I could stay on the ocean, wi' me _Pearl_ and me plunder. But, if I do that, I _can't_ guarantee that ye'll ever see me again, or that I'll get t' meet me grandchild, savvy?"

A sick feeling crept into my stomach. I'd seen Jack serious before, of course, when he talked with Papa in low voices and they didn't know I listened. But the glint in his black eyes, the arrogant sureness in his voice were absent.

"You can't guarantee you can leave the sea behind, either," I whispered. Jack smiled and un-Jack-like smile.

"Be careful, Izzy, my lass. Ye sound more and more like yer granddad every day."

"Is he gone daft?" Gibbs stared at Mari as if she were a creature of myth.

Mari shook her head. "More like finally gone sane. He swears he's to live the rest of his life like a respectable citizen." She snorted. "He wasn't one of those _before_ he became a pirate."

Gibbs took a healthy gulp from his flask. "What're we t' do?"

Mari sprang from her seat and began pacing the _Pearl_'s stateroom. "I'll run the _Pearl_, at least until he comes to his senses. Meanwhile, Britannia and Mr. Sweet can take care of the _Crimson Cutlass_."

Edmund Blackhand—the late James Norrington— abandoned his corner. "And who, my dear, is to take care of you? Perhaps, rather than railing against Jack's decision, you should consider joining him."

Captain Cutlass rounded on her husband, black eyes ablaze. "If you utter _one word _about the delicacy of my condition, James Bartholomew Norrington, this will be the _last_ child you ever sire!"

Blackhand raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that also leave _you_ at a disadvantage?"

Mari glared at him for several seconds before turning back to an amused Mr. Gibbs. "Send a message to the _Cutlass_ with the new rank assignments, and arrange to have Jack's things sent to the Turners'."

"Aye, ma'am," Gibbs said. "But I rather think the _Pearl_ is a bit outsized for the Turners' parlor."

Mari grinned mirthlessly. "That, my dear man, is Jack's worry, not mine." She paused. "Savvy?" And she stormed from the stateroom, the door clanging closed after her.

Gibbs gave Blackhand a sympathetic look. "There'll be no livin' wi' her after this."

Blackhand only smiled.


End file.
